The Touch of the Dorocha
by Volcanic Plug
Summary: Merlin experiences some side-effects from his encounter with the Dorocha and realises something terrible.
1. Chapter 1

The Touch of the Dorocha

Summary: Merlin experiences some side-effects from his encounter with the Dorocha and discovers something terrible.

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

Author's Note: Finally, I have something ready to go again! I'm sorry, this has been languishing for so long. Thanks to everyone who completed my poll, I think it did help for me to see what people were more interested in reading. For everyone who voted for this, I hope it doesn't disappoint! I know it's no longer at the top of the poll, but it was when I made the effort to work on it! It's set during series 4 and I think it'll be around 3 chapters long, 2 is almost ready to go, 3...less so.

* * *

"I believe he's ill sire..." the servant answered to Arthur's frustrated query.

"Again?!" he exclaimed grumpily, with just a _trace _of concern.

The pale dawn light was filtering through the window and the King was less than happy about the fact that he was awake to see it. This nameless servant had woken him far too early; Merlin usually let him sleep later in the winter, at least until he had built the fire up. But apparently, his manservant was ill, yet again, and Arthur couldn't help but worry as he dragged himself out of bed, dismissing the other servant.

Merlin had been working for him for almost 5 years now and in that time he'd never been ill beyond a couple of minor colds that had caused more complaints than anything else. He had certainly never missed work. But now... this was the fourth time Merlin had fallen ill this winter and Arthur was beginning to get seriously concerned for his servant's health. He hadn't failed to notice that Gaius had insisted his ward wrap up warmer and that there was a fire in their grate far more frequently than previous years. Without pausing to think about it too much, he dressed quickly and grabbed the apple and bread roll off his plate before heading down to Gaius' chambers, munching his breakfast along the way.

When he arrived in the physician's rooms he was faced with a scene very similar to the last three times Merlin was ill. Gaius was at his workbench, brewing some sort of tonic or potion, sending Merlin concerned glances every so often. Merlin himself was curled up in Gaius' bed which had been moved closer to the fire. He was shuddering slightly under his blankets and his breathing sounded a bit laboured, but not as bad as it had at the worse of his last illness. _That_ had scared the life out of Arthur, however hard he tried to convince himself otherwise. He had been honestly afraid that Merlin was dying.

"Sire!" Gaius exclaimed when he realised it was Arthur that had disturbed him. They both glanced at the bed as Merlin shifted restlessly, coughing, but not waking.

"How is he?" Arthur asked without preamble. With Merlin's earlier illnesses he had been much more reluctant to show his concern; putting off visiting the man and offering up half-hearted excuses when he finally had given in and checked up on Merlin. But by now, he had long gotten over his pride which was easily outweighed by his concern for his servant.

Gaius let out a sigh. "He's caught a chill sire, it has settled on his chest."

"Caught a chill? Again? How?" Arthur continued, moving over to Merlin's bedside.

"He was outside exercising your dogs yesterday wasn't he Sire?" Gaius asked.

"Yes he was," Arthur readily agreed, "but he was only out there for a couple of hours at most." Gaius looked set to interrupt, so Arthur hastily continued "...and I _know_ from previous experience that Merlin is capable of going outside in winter without getting ill. He has demonstrated that fact perfectly well for the previous 4 winters that he's been in Camelot!" Gaius looked troubled, but said nothing. "Why is this winter different Gaius?! What's the matter with him?"

"I don't know Sire, it could just be bad luck..." Arthur couldn't help but scoff at this, _typical Merlin_. "Of course he's been lucky so far _not _to get ill." Gaius continued. "What with helping me with so many patients over the years - even I have fallen sick a few times. Perhaps it is merely catching up with him."

Arthur stared at Gaius intently, trying to tell if he truly thought that was the case. He was rather worried that it _was _something like that, but that the thing catching up with Merlin was years of being overworked and underappreciated.

He remembered well the lesson of many winters ago when he was a boy, and the woman that brought him his breakfast every morning had died from a fever. He had asked Gaius about it, suddenly noticing that many of the servants fell ill in the colder months.  
"Peasants are far more likely to fall sick than nobles Sire, and are more likely to die from its effects." Gaius had explained. "They have a poorer quality of life... less food, more physical work from a young age, poorer cleanliness and colder housing. In general, they are not as healthy and therefore catch illnesses more easily."  
Gaius had seemed amused, but somewhat pleased by his declaration that when he became King all the peasants could come and live in the castle and eat the food from the royal kitchens so nobody would fall sick. He had certainly believed in it wholeheartedly at the time.

Unfortunately, now that he _was_ King he found that he had rather more pressing things to deal with, such as a hunt for a dangerous dragon egg and a narrowly-averted war with Caerlon.  
But that didn't change the fact that there was an issue with the living conditions, and really the only peasant he had regular contact with, though it had been a long time since he'd thought of him as such, was Merlin. But _thankfully_ Merlin had never given him any cause for concern...until now.

"Perhaps I should give him some time off, when he's well again." he said aloud. "See if some rest will help."

Gaius nodded unconvincingly. "You can certainly try my Lord, but I don't believe Merlin would be able to sit idle for long."

"No, you're probably right." he agreed, his mind already thinking up alternatives. There wasn't much he could do about the draughty little room his manservant slept in as Merlin had continuously turned down offers of _proper_ servants' quarters near the royal chambers, preferring instead to stay close to Gaius. Arthur had already given the Merlin one of his old cloaks... could he make Merlin eat better food? Perhaps if he just...

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door, followed by the arrival of Guinevere, who was carrying a tray with a bowl of something steaming.

"Arthur!" she exclaimed, smiling at him. "Have you come to check on Merlin?"

"No! I was just... seeing where he was. He's late again!" he immediately denied. He may be willing to admit to himself that he was worried about Merlin, but he was hardly going to tell the rest of the world that...

Gaius frowned quite genuinely at this. "I do apologise Sire. I informed a servant that Merlin would be unable to serve you today, clearly he didn't pass the message on."

_Oops._ "Ah well no... yes... I did know... But... I was just here to check that it was true. And he wasn't hungover or anything."

Gwen frowned at him slightly, probably knowing damn well he was lying through his teeth. She set the tray down and took a seat next to the cot. He tried to justify himself. "I found it unbelievable that he's managed to get ill for the fourth time in 3 months and had to come and check."

"It _is_ worrying..." Gwen replied, looking down at the man in the bed with concern. "He's never fallen ill much before..."

Gaius came over then, holding a vial containing a liquid that was a disgusting shade of yellow. "Help me wake him up. He needs to drink this and then have that broth to keep his strength up."

Waking Merlin was harder than it sounded, but after much shaking and a little shouting he finally stirred sluggishly.

"Merlin?" Gwen said sympathetically.

"Merlin wake up!" Arthur tried, a lot less sympathetically.

The man on the bed groaned and tried to turn away from them, sinking deeper into the blankets as he coughed weakly. "'s too early..." he mumbled.

"You're 2 hours late for work Merlin, it's _not_ too early!"

It was quite comical really to see Merlin's eyes pop open after that. "Huh?" he exclaimed, struggling to sit up.

Gaius was on him immediately. "Drink this." he said, thrusting the vial towards Merlin as Gwen helped to prop him up.  
Merlin seemed to realise then that he was ill and groaned again, but drank the tonic without question, suggesting to Arthur that he must feel pretty awful to willingly drink one of Gaius' concoctions.

"Now this!" Gaius snapped as Merlin tried to vanish under the blankets again.

He'd managed to get down about half of the broth, though it was a slow and painstaking process in between Merlin coughing and shivering. Finally he turned away and Gaius took pity on him. "Alright, that'll do."

With little more encouragement than that, Merlin had sank back down with his eyes shut. Within moments he was fast asleep again.

Arthur had been hovering nearby during all of this, but keeping out of the way; now he stepped forward. "Will he be alright?" he questioned Gaius.

"I think he will recover soon enough," the physician replied, sounding pleased. "It's nowhere near as bad as last time."  
Arthur nodded and Gwen sighed with relief. "Thank goodness!"  
"He'll need a couple of days rest," Gaius added, "but then he should be fine."

* * *

Yea, not a lot happening in this chapter! Like I said, chapter 2 is almost ready. Please take the time to review :-)


	2. Chapter 2

There, I hope that wasn't too long to wait! Thanks to everyone who reviewed/followed/favourited the first chapter! I was pretty surprised, because I didn't think there was much to it, so thanks! There will be one or two more chapters after this, I'm leaning towards two so I get one out sooner!

* * *

"What's the matter with me Gaius?" Merlin asked miserably. "I've hardly been sick at all since coming to Camelot, but now it feels like I'm sick all the time!"

It was a couple of days after he'd fallen ill _again_ and he was feeling thoroughly sorry for himself. He'd spent all day in bed shivering and coughing and trying to sleep and now he just wanted to feel better. Even lugging around Arthur's armour would be better than this.

"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about." Gaius responded, aiming to sound reassuring, but failing to completely hide the concern and confusion from his voice.

Merlin looked up, wide-eyed. "What?! I wasn't _worried_! Only fed up! Gaius... should I be worried?"

"No!" the physician replied, inwardly cursing his choice of words. "I'm sure you've merely worn yourself out. You need plenty of rest and then you'll be right as rain."

Merlin frowned. "You don't sound very convinced. Are you sure? Because I've definitely felt more worn out than this before and managed fine without falling ill every couple of weeks..."

"It's perfectly understandable Merlin, nothing to be concerned about..." Gaius hastily tried to reassure his ward.

"Gaius!" Merlin exclaimed. "Stop making vague excuses and tell me what's really going on!" he stared at his mentor carefully. "It's not something really serious is it? And you're not telling me?"

"No! Merlin..." he hesitated. "As far as I can tell, these illnesses are perfectly normal."

Merlin wasn't satisfied. "But...?"

"But... I can think of no conventional medical reason why you've suddenly become so prone to such bouts of sickness."

Merlin was silent for a while, mulling this over, before he asked carefully. "Can you think of any _other_ reason?"

The physician wasn't surprised that the warlock had picked up on this distinction. "I do have a theory..." he began, "but I honestly have no way of determining if it's true."

"What is it?" Merlin asked.

"It could be that this is some sort of side-effect from your encounter with the Dorocha."

The look on Merlin's face would have been almost comical in any other situation, his eyes wide and his mouth gaping, but Gaius didn't fail to notice that his face had paled somewhat and he had shuddered, even under his mound of blankets.

"The Dorocha?" he breathed.

"It's only a theory Merlin, I can't be sure, but I can think of no other explanation." Gaius said soothingly. "Arthur and the Knights said that you were so cold after you were attacked that you were covered in ice... and you were deathly cold when you collapsed after the veil was torn open. Clearly it affected you deeply."

Merlin just nodded vaguely. He had been so cold it _hurt_. It had felt as if the very blood in his veins and the air in his lungs had frozen solid leaving everything feeling heavy. He had the terrifying experience of being unable to feel himself - his hands, his feet, his face - everything had turned numb and he'd thought for a second that maybe he had been turned into ice. But then he had felt the distant sensation of someone holding him and his eyes watering and he realised that he was still alive. Eventually the others realised the same and with great effort, Merlin found himself capable of blinking and finally moving a little, even though it resulted in sharp icy pain throughout his body. It was not an experience he would like to repeat, he didn't even like thinking about it and now Gaius was saying it had some more long-lasting consequences?

"But surely it says somewhere in one of these books? What the side-effects could be?" Merlin queried. "So we'd know for certain?"

Gaius had been watching his ward closely as Merlin seemed to have taken the mere mention of the Dorocha quite badly, which was understandable certainly. But now he frowned with confusion, wondering if Merlin had misinterpreted the question. "Merlin, there are no side-effects to a Dorocha's attack. The victim dies, that's it."

Merlin blinked confusedly, as if he was struggling to follow. "But other people have survived? People with magic, like me? They kill normal people, but my magic protected me, right?"

Gaius shook his head. "No Merlin, I spoke the truth when I said that no mortal had ever survived their touch." He stepped forward in alarm as Merlin paled even further, looking completely stunned. "Merlin?" he questioned worriedly. Something between confusion and horror flitted over his ward's face, before he saw a familiar closed expression descend as Merlin shuttered his emotions behind a blank facade.

"I'm tired." the warlock said bluntly, turning away from Gaius.

"Merlin, are you alright?" the physician queried.

"Fine." he replied without turning. "I'm just tired Gaius, please."

There was something very close to desperation in his tone and Gaius couldn't bear to argue, so he quietly turned back to his work.

Merlin shuddered again as he heard Gaius retreat, trying not to think about what he'd just been told. Gaius was seemingly unaware of the implications, but he had confirmed the terrible sneaking suspicion that Merlin had been trying to ignore for several weeks now.

* * *

It had been a difficult couple of months; Uther's death had been quite a shock to the kingdom and had pitched Merlin into a bit of a depression after the part he had played. He'd tried his best to push his despair aside and be there for Arthur, but it had been difficult. He found it hardest to get over how _arrogant_ he'd been, foolishly believing that he could do anything and fix _everything_. How could he have been so stupid to suppose that a completely untrained warlock, however talented, could heal the King? He should have seen the pendant, he should have _sensed_ the pendant. Why had he been so stupid?

It may be true that the magic itself came to him frighteningly easy, but the knowledge and understanding he had of that magic was very minimal. His magic hadn't been enough to fight the Dorocha, it hadn't been enough to save Lancelot and it hadn't been enough to prevent Uther's death.

So he'd decided to study to try and increase his knowledge. After driving Gaius to distraction with questions, he'd moved on to devouring most of the books in Gaius' collection, reading late into the night and running his mind in circles. Of course, Gaius' books, although full of information on any number of topics, were still mainly _legal_. The hidden section of the library where he'd found the goblin was far more useful and contained a number of highly illegal books about magic... Merlin was fascinated. Initially he'd had some trouble understanding a number of the old scripts written in druidic text, but with some guidance from Gaius, who was being quietly disapproving of his new taste for prohibited literature, he had finally located a book to help him translate them.

Merlin had managed quite well for a while and was feeling pretty damn pleased with himself. But then quite by chance, he'd stumbled across the meaning of one of the first druidic words he'd ever known.

Emrys, _immortal_.

For several seconds his mind went completely blank and he stared pointlessly at the words on the page as if he'd forgotten how to read. Then he dropped the book as though it had burnt him. He stumbled out of his hidden library recklessly, not caring if Geoffrey was around. Merlin was back in his room before he'd realised and his mind was spinning.

_Immortal..._ surely not? That was a preposterous idea, completely ridiculous. It couldn't mean... no.

He was a normal man... well a Dragonlord, not some sort of unfathomable _immortal_. _Immortal_. No. That couldn't be true. He was _not_ inherently different from anyone else with magic. More powerful perhaps, the most powerful if you believed the prophecies, but that didn't make him _different_. Not like that.

But then the more he thought about it, the more afraid he became. Gaius had said that no man could look upon the Lake of Avalon unless he was close to death, but he had been there several times now. He had survived things, so many things he had put down to luck, or maybe even _destiny_. There had been poison and sidhe staffs and the questing beast and serket stings. None had killed him where they would have another man. And now he'd read that... _immortal._ It was impossible, surely? But he had survived the touch of the Dorocha where nobody else had. _Why?_ _How?_

* * *

He had remained in bed for two more days after his illness, against his wishes. He wanted nothing more than to throw himself back into his work and drive out all thoughts of Emrys and immortality. Instead he'd found himself trapped - bedridden with nothing to do _but_ think of it.

Was this his reward? Years of loyal service to his King, of heartache and grief for the sake of his destiny, for _this_? Even if he succeeds, if everything he'd ever hoped for is achieved, Albion is born and his magic is accepted, he still can't be happy. After everything was done and past, would he just have to stand and watch... watch his friends, everyone and everything he holds dear fade into the past as if they'd never existed? He can't wrap his mind around the enormity of it.

Despite Gaius hovering around him far more than was necessary and frequent visits from all his friends, including Arthur himself, he feels more unbearably lonely than he's ever been his entire life.

* * *

Author's Note: I'd just like to explain my thoughts here – if you don't care, feel free to move on (review first!).

I actually came up with this story well before the finale (yes that is how long it takes me to get things going). Basically, I think they were suggesting to us for a long time that Merlin was immortal, right from series one with the Lake of Avalon. Gaius said then that no mortal could see the lake unless they were about to die, but Merlin did... and then they said nothing else about it. But nobody else ever did go to the lake did they? I know the immortality thing was obvious to some of us, but we had wikipedia to tell us that the word Emrys meant immortal! What if Merlin figured it out before then?


	3. Chapter 3

This is the penultimate chapter, and not very exciting I'm afraid, but stuff will happen in the final chapter I promise. I decided I'd rather post this sooner rather than wait and post a monster final chapter! I really wanted to get this one out sooner though... I'm sorry!

* * *

Merlin had been back to work for almost a week now after his most recent bout of illness, but Arthur was seriously contemplating asking Gaius to check him out again. He'd stopped coughing and shivering, but there was definitely _something_ wrong with him. Arthur could understand his pale skin and his thinner than normal frame, after all, it would take a while for the man to recover after _so many_ illnesses in a short period. But what really concerned the King was how exhausted Merlin seemed, with dark shadows haunting his eyes and a vague look as if his thoughts were a million miles away. He looked downright miserable. There was a grim set to his mouth and a listlessness about the way he moved these days that Arthur despised. He didn't smile or tease anymore, just ghosted around the castle completing his chores without a single complaint.

Arthur wasn't the only one who had noticed it. Gwen had taken to plying him with food whenever she was around him and helping him finish his chores when she wasn't, while Gwaine's persistent attempts convince Merlin that a trip to the tavern would cheer him up were now bordering on harassment. Arthur himself had taken to insulting Merlin and everything he did in an attempt to get some sort of reaction from him, but when the servant had only apologised meekly for his poor polishing skills Arthur couldn't bring himself to continue. The man just looked so depressed.

Unfortunately that left only one thing. Arthur would have to talk to Merlin, directly, about his _feelings_.

He wondered what it said about him that he found himself planning this like a battle.

He chose his own chambers as the battleground; selfishly to be on his own territory, but also because he could catch Merlin naturally, rather than unsettling him by turning up at Gaius' chambers unannounced.

He's aware that he offers comfort so rarely that the surprise attack approach would probably be met with a sudden and potentially violent retaliation, so instead he chose to lull the enemy... ah, Merlin, into a false sense of security by gradually getting nicer over the course of several days, before pouncing and asking him what was wrong. Of course that also had the advantage of allowing for the possibility that Merlin would cheer up on his own anyway due to his employers' generous behaviour and Arthur wouldn't have to go through with this at all.

Unfortunately Arthur being extra-nice to his servant didn't seem to have cheered the man up very much. In fact it seemed to make him frown a lot. But Arthur couldn't tell if that meant Merlin was unhappy about his treatment or just confused. Finally, he felt that he'd put things off for long enough and it was about time he gritted his teeth and got on with it.

* * *

Merlin was washing the floor when Arthur came in, looking completely lost in thought. In fact, he didn't seem to have noticed that Arthur had entered. The King cleared his throat awkwardly, causing Merlin to jump out of his skin and drop the mop, apologising profusely. Arthur waved away his blathering and headed straight for the table.

"Merlin... sit down would you?" he said, indicating the seat next to him. Merlin blinked, but offered no protest and sat down as instructed.

Damn, Arthur was hoping for a bit more of a reaction than that. "Merlin, I want to talk to you... about..." He really should have thought about what he was going to say before he'd opened his mouth. He tried another approach. "How are you feeling Merlin?"

Merlin frowned at him again. "I'm fine..." he responded reluctantly.

"You know... you're fully recovered now? After your illness?"

"Oh." Merlin replied, sounding surprised that Arthur was asking. "Um... yeah... all better now." he responded unconvincingly. "Gaius took good care of me."

Arthur nodded contemplatively. "Then what's wrong with you?"

Merlin looked startled. "What's...? What do you mean? I'm fine."

"You're not!" Arthur exclaimed, slightly childishly. "There's clearly something bothering you! You've been moping since you came back to work and I won't have it anymore!"

Merlin gaped and it occurred to Arthur that perhaps that approach was a touch too... prattish.

"I... I'm sorry." Merlin stuttered. "I'm not... I didn't..."

"No." Arthur interrupted, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry, that's not what I meant to say. I just... it seems like something's bothering you and... I wondered... if there was anything I could do? To help?"

He had expected Merlin to brush off the question, to continue insisting he was fine as he normally did, but instead the idiot was gaping at him as if he'd just asked him to run naked through the castle.

"You... what? Why?" Merlin asked, sounding amazed.

"Look Merlin... I know you're just my servant, but... well... Gwen considers you a friend and she's worried about you." It turns out he was a coward.

He thought about the man in front of him sitting on the cold stone floor of the corridor for hours, waiting for him to emerge on the night he became King. Then he thought of Merlin pushing him back as he jumped in front of a screaming demon and he was utterly ashamed that he couldn't even acknowledge how much that meant to him.

"...and so am I... so do I." he finally managed to admit.

Merlin looked completely taken aback by this and looked away awkwardly. Arthur would have wondered if taking this approach had been a huge mistake, except to his surprise, his manservant seemed to be regarding him seriously, as if he was actually thinking about...

"Can I ask you something?" Merlin interrupted his thoughts.

"Of course!" Arthur responded, almost eagerly. He couldn't believe it, was Merlin truly going to open up to him? It was amazing what an honest conversation could lead to...

"Do you ever think about the future?" Merlin asked quietly.

Arthur was surprised. He wasn't sure what he'd expected Merlin to say, but it certainly wasn't this. He tried to answer as honestly as he could. "Yes, all the time. I have to think about the Kingdom's future..."

"No." Merlin interrupted. "I mean... I know, but do you ever think about... far in the future? After you're dead? What do you think it'll be like?"

"I expect I won't care, I'll be dead." Arthur quipped.

"But what about the Kingdom? Do you think... what do you think it'll be like without you?" Merlin elaborated, not reacting to his joke.

"I don't know," Arthur replied genuinely. "I haven't really thought about it." Merlin seemed disappointed with that response, so he tried to continue. "I suppose I imagined that I would have an heir, and they would be able to continue ruling the kingdom as I would have wished."

"But what about after them? After your grandchildren and great grandchildren? Do you think the kingdom will go on forever?" Merlin pressed, almost desperately.

Arthur gaped. "Forever is a long time." was all he could say. Then he watched as his friend's face completely shuttered, his eyes looking dark and pained.

"Yes it is." he said quietly as he stood up and turned away.

Arthur had somehow lost this conversation and he wasn't happy about that. "Wait!" he exclaimed as he grasped for Merlin's arm. "Why are you... what's _wrong_ Merlin?" he questioned.

"I..." Merlin looked upset, conflicted. "Nothing." he said with more certainty. "It's nothing."

"_Merlin!"_ he pressed. "I'm not blind! You've been looking more miserable every day and I want to know why!" Merlin began to shake his head, but Arthur wasn't finished. "I want to help you, whatever it is."

"Can I take a day off?" Merlin asked, barely thinking. He watched Arthur blink, weighing up the request.

"What is it?" he asked again. "Your mother?"

"No! I mean, yes!" Merlin gulped. "She's fine, but... can I go and visit her?" He suddenly realised that this is exactly what he wants, what he needs. His mother can't fix this, he doubts anybody can, but she'll be there - let him talk and give him a hug without asking questions. This is what he needs. "I just want to see her." he mumbled. He felt like a child again.

Arthur was regarding him carefully, not completely believing him he suspected, but eventually conceded. "Ok, fine, take as long as you need."

"Thanks." Merlin said quietly, turning to leave.

"Wait!" Arthur stopped him again, "I expect you to return looking a lot less like the world has ended, understood?"

* * *

Well I'm not entirely happy with that, but I've been tweaking it for about a week and thought it was high time to just get it out! Let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

I'm so sorry this has taken so long! Thank you for being so patient :-) I don't feel entirely happy with it, but I'm so busy right now, any changes I make are really unsubstantial, so I figure I'd just post it as it is. This is the final chapter! Let me know what you think, I hope it's not disappointing!

* * *

His time with his mother was restful, and in a way it did help. She was delighted at his unscheduled visit, but he was so obviously distraught that it wasn't long before her joy turned to fear. He had to reassure her that nothing had _happened _exactly, nobody had died, he hadn't been discovered. She wasn't convinced though, she always had known exactly how he was feeling. So he told her of his fears and she did what only a mother can. She held him as he cried and kissed his cheek and fed him porridge. For a while the weight of destiny lessened and he remembered how to breathe under the strain. He's not sure that his mother believed him, but she didn't question it, just comforted him.

He took his time returning to Camelot and he wasn't not sure why because he was feeling much better... well a lot less distraught at least. Then a druid stepped out in front of him in the woods and he knew this must be the reason he felt like dawdling. Whatever these druids want, he has to hear it. So when they invited him graciously to break his journey at their camp he readily agreed.

It was not a group of druids that he had encountered before, but they were friendly enough. A little _less_ deferential with him than usual, which was completely fine with him. Their leader, a smiling man named Adavel, welcomed Merlin amiably, but as if he was an old friend rather than their saviour or something like that. They shared a rabbit stew to rival the ones Arthur was served (not that _he'd_ know what that tasted like of course) and traded tales about Camelot and the nearby lands. The children begged him to perform tricks with his magic and for the first time in a long while Merlin felt like he might just be happy that he had magic because it really _could_ be beautiful sometimes.

The children were eventually ushered to their beds and Merlin found himself in the company of some slightly more serious looking druids. They were now regarding him with a rather odd expression - somewhere between awe and pity that made Merlin feel a little uncomfortable.

"Emrys, you are troubled." Adavel stated and Merlin couldn't help but flinch involuntarily at the use of his druid name. Emrys... _immortal_.

He considered deflecting the query, distracting their concern away. He didn't _want_ that attention. But he knew that there was a reason he'd ended up here with these druids now... he needed to hear what they were going to say.

"I discovered something..." he started. "Something I didn't realise before...". How could he explain it to these people? They thought he was the man of their prophecies, that he _was_ this mystical man. _Immortal_. It was them that had named him. How could he expect them to understand what an awful, heart-wrenching shock that had been for him to discover?

"Emrys?" the druid prompted.

"My name is _Merlin_!" he snapped. "What makes you think _I'm_ Emrys?! I'm not! I can't be! And more importantly _I don't want to be!_" He realised he was standing and that he was shaking. The druids didn't look angry or shocked by his outburst. All his anger and fear left him in a rush and he sat down again suddenly, as if his legs could no longer support him. "I'm sorry..." he said meekly. "I just... I don't want..." he sighed. "Are you sure it's me?"

Adavel was giving him an unreadable look. "We are sure Emrys... Merlin."

"How can you tell?"

Adavel smiled slightly at this. "Your power is unmistakable, certainly, but it is not that alone which marks you out to my people... Your devotion to the Once and Future King and your humanity is what makes you worthy of that name."

"I don't want that name!" Merlin repeated desperately. "I don't want that..." Adavel said nothing. "Why do you call him that?" Merlin continued. "Emrys? It means... don't you know what it means?"

"Emrys is the name of legend, that is the name in the prophecy alongside that of the Once and Future King." the druid stated, as if it was a simple fact that didn't impact upon Merlin's entire life.

"What?" he responded incomprehensibly.

Adavel sighed. "I don't know why you have been given the name Emrys, the name 'immortal'. Perhaps it is not literal, perhaps it is your memory, your tale which is everlasting?"

Those words would have been comforting to Merlin a few weeks ago, knowing only what his name meant. But now... "Do you know of the Dorocha?"

"Certainly." Adavel responded. "Spirits of the dead unleashed by Morgana during last Samhain. You repaired the veil did you not Emrys?"

Merlin shook his head. "No. Sir Lancelot, the most noble knight of Camelot sacrificed himself to satisfy the Cailleach. My magic could not fight them." Adavel nodded in understanding and Merlin continued. "On our way to the Isle of the Blessed... I was touched by the Dorocha... but I'm still alive." He watched as the druids exchanged glances, some looking awed, but Adavel was frowning slightly. "Do you... have you ever heard of that before?" Merlin continued reluctantly, not sure if he really wanted to hear the answer.

"You are sure the Dorocha touched you?" another druid asked.

Merlin nodded. "Yes, it passed straight through me. I was cold and I couldn't move, but I was still alive..."

Adavel looked sad and Merlin knew before he spoke what his answer would be. "That should be impossible Emrys - nobody can escape death from the Dorocha. Unless..."

"Unless I really am immortal?" Merlin finished, trying to keep the despair from creeping into his voice. Adavel said nothing. "How can that be possible?! I don't want to be immortal! I don't want... Will I just have to watch everyone die? Can't I do anything?" Suddenly everything he'd felt when he'd first realised his fate came back in full force and he felt tears spring to his eyes. "I'll lose everyone... I'll be all alone forever."

"Emrys... I understand that this is a terrible thing. But I do not think all is quite as hopeless as you suppose." the druid spoke consolingly. "Have you ever stopped to consider what the phrase 'Once and Future King' actually means?"

Merlin stared at him stupidly. "What it _means_?" Didn't it just mean Arthur was the greatest King this land would ever know? Didn't it just... sound impressive?

"The Once and Future King is as true a name as your's Emrys. You are immortal and Arthur is the king once, and the king to be."

"I don't understand." Merlin breathed, hardly daring to think on the possibility this implied.

"The prophecy speaks of the golden age of Albion that you and Arthur will bring about. But it also speaks of Arthur's return... that he will rise again, when Albion's need is greatest." Adavel spoke matter-of-factly, but there was an encouraging glimmer in his eyes.

Merlin felt like the ground had fallen out from under him. "I don't... rise again? As in... come back to life? After he's dead? Are you truly saying that?"

"I hope this brings you some comfort Emrys?" Adavel said.

"I... it... I don't know what to say." Merlin stammered. "He'll come back..." he said, almost to himself. "He'll really come back?"

* * *

And it _did_ comfort him, for some of the time at least.

It didn't fix everything; he was still going to have to watch everyone else die and who knew _when_ Arthur would deem it necessary to return? But he had been so afraid of spending the rest of eternity alone... at least he knew now that there would be something worth waiting for, that he could at least see Arthur again. Sometimes he felt depression creeping up again, but he was able to push this away now instead of slipping into despair. He had to focus on what he had now and focus on bringing about Arthur's destiny.

Unfortunately, this revelation, although calming his fears about his fate, did nothing to stop the effects of his run in with the Dorocha.

He still got ill. A lot.

It was far worse in the winter months and at first he utterly despised it. The most serious time by far was the first Samhain after the veil had been torn open. He fell ill suddenly and violently, almost collapsing at the feast as he had last year. The following week was simply a haze of confusion with fits of chills and racking coughs, broken only by restless bouts of sleep and his friends' faces hovering over him anxiously. He honestly wondered if the Dorocha were trying to draw him through the veil to make up for his immortality trick.

He recovered rather miraculously on the anniversary of the day the veil closed again.

After that his bouts of illness did lessen in severity and frequency, but without fail, he was always completely bedridden at Samhain. Every time he fell ill he tried for as long as possible to ignore it. It served to remind him that he was different, that he had survived the Dorocha and therefore must be immortal. He hated it.

But eventually he managed to think about it differently. Instead of dwelling on the terrible truth he had learnt from his run in with the Dorocha, he thought of why he had done it. It was stupid that he'd forgotten it really. He had put himself in front of the Dorocha to save Arthur's life and that was the most important thing. That was worth whatever had followed.

Eventually, the after-effects of his encounter with the Dorocha became a reminder of what he was fighting for.

* * *

There you go! I hope it's ok. Do review to let me know!  
I have many other things in the works, I hoping you'll get another chapter or 2 of Protect before I post anything new.

Thanks to everyone that reviewed this story and others! I also want to thank Naleky, who took the time recently to let me know that someone had been plagiarising one of my other fics. I wouldn't have spotted it myself, so thank you so much!


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